Four Brothers: Random Drabbles & Tales
by Lucise
Summary: These drabbles and short stories are inspired by random scenes from the movie. I will add more as they come. Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, simple as that. All your comments are indeed welcome.
1. Drabbles: 1 to 3

_**Greetings dear readers!**_

_This is my first ever fic on this site. So happy to be here at last._

_All the drabbles and short stories that follow are inspired by the movie (of course); with bits and pieces of my imagination thrown in.  
I do not own these gorgeous lads or desire to. All I wish to do is share some of the love I have for this movie in the form of my little entries here._

_Like the fic title suggests, the tales/drabbles are random and do not necessarily read in a particular order._

_I hope you enjoy them. Please do read and review! I'd love to hear what you think!_

_Cheers! ;-)  
Lucise_

* * *

**Midnight Intruder**

He was drifting off to sleep when he heard his bedroom door creak open; the shadow had returned. He curled up in a ball and covered his head with the old quilt. The intruder sat down heavily at the corner of his twin bed. He could feel the large hand travel all over his trembling body, probing and rubbing. He could hear the heavy breathing and he smelled the familiar stink of beer and sweat. The hand moved up between his legs..

Jackie awoke with a start and screamed for his Ma, fresh tears running down his frightened, sweat-stricken face.

_(100 words)_

* * *

**Date Night**

"No shit, little brother..." Angel called out from the kitchen, "Yo Bobby! Jackie Poo's going on a date! Ya never told us ya met some chick!"

"Knowing him, it could be some little fairy like himself.." Bobby chimed in as he padded into the kitchen a moment later. "Just don't bring him back here, got it? No dude on dude action in this house.." Bobby teased.

Jack shook his head and smiled, "Shut the fuck up Bobby."

He straightened his leather jacket and cocked his shaggy-haired head to one side. "Do I look fucking gorgeous or what? Don't wait up!"

_(100 words)_

* * *

**My precious little fairy**

Bobby buried his head on the flattened pillow and wept. He was down on his knees, clutching fistfuls of the comforter on his brother's bed. Only yesterday Jack had slept here. He could still smell the 'Voodoo' Axe deodorant Jack loved to wear.

"I'm so sorry Jackie, I'm so sorry.." he sobbed.

"I'm sorry I failed to look after ya..."

He lifted his head from the tear-stained pillow and picked up a strand of Jack's hair clinging to the white pillowcase.

"I love ya, little brother.. I'll fucking miss ya.."

His lips trembled, tears of anger spilling from swollen eyes.

_(100 words)_


	2. Drabbles: 4 to 5

**Sunday Breakfast **

Angel and Bobby are busily guzzling their coffee and attending to the scrambled eggs and toast Sofi piles high on their plates when Jerry brings his van to a stop outside the house and walks in.

"What's happening boys?" he asks, taking a seat at the table. "Where's Cracker Jack?"

"His lazy ass is still asleep." Bobby jumps in between bites.

Sofi rubs Angel's thigh, "Angel, we're going shopping this afternoon.."

"Aw come on baby, you can go by yourself, can't ya?"

Jack saunters in sleepily, dressed in his boxers; he plops down beside Bobby. "Fucking whiskey hangover. I'm starving.."

(100 words)

----------------------------------------------------------------

**La Vida Loca**

"You gotta tell Loco Ono there to keep it down when you're doing it. Fuck, I didn't get a wink of sleep last night.." Bobby groused.

He walked into the bathroom, Angel on his heels. "You're just jealous 'cause your sorry ass's not gettin' laid Bobby!" he laughed out loud.

"Yeah … whatever, boy!"

"Whatever happened to that Michelle you was dating back then? You were fucking crazy 'bout that girl!"

Bobby spread some paste on his toothbrush, "Who the fuck knows.."

"We'll find you a good girl, bro. Want me to ask Sofi if her sister Benita is single?" Angel teased.

Bobby shot him a dark look.

(108 words)


	3. Drabbles: 6 to 7

**Angel of Death**

"_If we can't bring 'em back, we'll send him some company."_ He'd meant every single word. Ma was dead and gone; and Jackie was lying on a cold slab in the morgue with a hole through his chest. Revenge boiled fiercely through Angel's veins. This was all-out fucking war.

The words reverberated in Angel's head as he sat hunched over on his brother's bed. He picked up the piece of paper lying on the nightstand. Jack had scribbled some lyrics on it earlier when he was playing with his guitar_: 'Her innocent blood forever spilled… await the angel of death...'_

_(100 words)_

* * *

**Jack's Song**

_Her innocent blood forever spilled,_

_Await the angel of death;_

_Pure love and sweetness are what you killed…_

-----

We will hunt you down and make you pay

For the rounds that rained from your guns that day;

She prayed for your souls as you took her life;

Our hearts bleed, punctured by your bloody knife.

-----

_Her innocent blood forever spilled,_

_Count your days, for they are numbered;_

_Pure love and sweetness are what you killed…_

-----

She was the only one who ever did care

For the four degenerate bastards you see here.

And if I must, I will die for her sake

Any pain and suffering, I will gladly take…

-----

_Her innocent blood forever spilled,_

_Pure love and sweetness are what you killed…_

_(123 words)_


	4. Tale: I'm Here

_This one is more of a short story.  
Read and comment if you will. :-) Cheers._

* * *

**I'm here**

Evelyn sat at the edge of his bed and took the boy's hand in both of hers. She rubbed them soothingly, slowly urging him to look at her. Only a few nights before, his screams had awoken her and half the household. She had found him hiding under his bed, sweating profusely and trembling violently from head to toe. The nightmares wracked the boy down to the core; and left him feeling angry and withdrawn with each passing day.

"I won't let anything happen to you, child. You are safe here with me." The scared look in his eyes began to slowly dissolve as she held firmly onto his hand.

"Look at me," she urged, eyes fixed on the young face. "I know what happened with your last foster father. What he did to you was despicable, and some day he'll have to answer to God for what he did. But those days are behind you now. I am here for you; and you've got three older brothers here who will look after you; who love you as I do."

"You are capable of growing into a fine, upstanding young man; and I'll keep repeating that to you every single day if that is what it takes. You hear me?" He nodded briefly and buried his chin back in his chest.

"Wanna give your Ma a hug?" She held her arms open and waited. He inched closer to her on the bed and slowly leaned forward into her arms. He wrapped thin arms tightly around her and tucked his head into her neck. She smelled of flowers and a faint whiff of lemon laundry detergent lingered on her house coat. Her arms were warm and welcoming. It was the first time someone had held him so close, so lovingly. The only kind of touch he was accustomed to thus far, was from the lash of a leather belt on his bare back, or from the drunken hands that violated his body in the veil of night.

Hot tears from the boy's red eyes disappeared into Evelyn's robe as she clung to him. She rocked him gently and whispered, "My little Jackie, don't cry. I'm here for ya. I'm here."

Jack watched solemnly as his mother's casket was lowered into the cold, snow-covered earth. He would never forget that day when she'd held him in her arms like nobody before her. If only she knew what that moment had meant to the scared, angry little boy he was at the time. The memories of her spilled out with the fresh rivers of tears that now wet his face. Jeremiah stood to his left, Bobby to his right; yet at that moment, he'd never felt more lost and alone.

"I'm here for ya, Jackie..." her voice echoed in his head, "I'm here."

(470 words)


	5. Tale: Big Brothers

_Another short story. We all know violence is not the answer .. But big brothers will be big brothers… ;-)_

_Note: Contains coarse language. _

* * *

**What big brothers do.. **

Jack ran all the way upstairs to his room and slammed the door. Bobby ran after him and pounded on the door. No answer. "Jack, open the fucking door now!" he yelled, his temper slowly rising.

Jack opened the door slightly and stood there, a hand pressed against his bloody nose.

"Why didn't you stop when I called ya?" He pushed the door wide open and looked closely at his brother's bleeding nose. "Who the fuck did this to you, huh?"

"Bobby, just leave it the fuck alone, okay? I took care of the bastard, gave him a fuckin' black eye and a good kick in the balls." He tried to force a smile and winced. That vein on Bobby's forehead was throbbing again; he was royally pissed now.

"You talking about that Sammy kid in your class? Because I swear if he laid a fuckin' hand on you, this time I'll break those toothpick legs of his. Was it Sammy?"

Jack nodded quietly. "But please Bobby, just leave it alone. Everyone will think I'm a sissy if I keep running to you guys to save my ass every time some prick picks a fight with me. Last time, Angel practically threatened to mail that shithead, Sean his teeth if he laid a finger on me again. The whole damn school heard about it that time..."

"That's what big brothers do, Cracker Jack!"

Jack looked pleadingly at his brother, "Please don't tell Ma, please..."

Bobby frowned and stared at his little brother. "That fool called you a faggot again?"

Jack sighed and walked into the bathroom. His silence was all the answer his brother needed. Bobby took the stairs two at a time and slammed the front door shut as he ran into the street. That chicken-legged Sammy kid needed to be taught a lesson or two…

(310 words)


	6. Tale: His Mind's Made

**His Mind's made up..**

Jeremiah tossed and turned, finally resting on his back. Sleep had steadily escaped him for the past few nights. He looked unblinkingly at the ceiling; the events of the day came flooding back. Bobby wanted blood and he knew that when his brother got this way, there was no talking him out of things. Ma used to say that Bobby was twice as smart as he looked; the problem was that his head got too hot for him to think straight half the time. Boy was she right. Ma's death was hard on him too. He loved her, and took care of her the best he could. She'd been very proud of him when he'd straightened his life out and settled down with a nice girl. Sure, it killed him to know that she was gone, executed in cold blood for no apparent reason; but the idea of barging around with loaded guns shooting up a storm did not appeal to him at all. He was a family man now; he had Camille, Daniela and Amelia to think about. He looked over at his sleeping wife lying beside him. What good would it do to end up in a grave alongside Ma? How would that solve anything?

His mind drifted to many summers ago when Evelyn had taken him in. He'd already lived in four foster homes before she came along. At first he'd thought her the same as all the others but there'd been something different, something genuine in her eyes. He found out soon enough that she did give a damn. She gave a damn when he began hanging out with a rough gang of kids in the neighborhood; when he acted out at school and got suspended; when he got his first "real" job; when he didn't act like the gentleman she knew he could be; every time she kissed his forehead and told him she loved him; she always gave a damn, many times over. Tears ran down the sides of his face and pooled in his ears. He hadn't yet told the girls that their Grandma Evie would not be there this Christmas, or for any other Christmases, birthdays or thanksgivings for that matter. He dried his tired eyes with the edge of the sheet.

He heard his brothers' voices from the day before: _'Why're ya being such a bitch, Jerry…' … 'Half the cops in this town are crooked, you think the other half give two shits about a liquor store hold-up?...' … 'The least we can do is go bang on a few doors and see what happens, we owe her that much…" We owe her way more than that, brothers_, he thought to himself, _a whole lot more._ His mind was made up. He rolled over on his side and finally, a little bit of sleep took over him.

_(475 words)_


	7. Drabbles: 8 to 9

_Two more drabbles, dear readers. _

_Warning: angsty. :( _**  
**

* * *

**Snowball from hell**

He lay trembling on the small mound of snow,

Hot blood from his wounds melting its way into the frozen bed.

He'd sang about death, wrote lyrics about it, dreamed about it;

Now that it was near, staring him boldly in the eye,

It scared him shitless … _Not like this, not alone._

His lungs burned as he called out

Amidst the chaos of raining bullets and flying glass.

_Please don't let me die here alone, Bobby, please …_

Little Jackie faded slowly on a snowy deathbed,

Lured from the safety of the nest by a damned snowball from hell.

_(100 words)_

* * *

**Falling walls**

Bobby sat hunched over on the sofa; his head in his hands. This time he cried openly before his two younger brothers. Jackie's rosary beads lay cold against his chest underneath his blood-stained sweater. He rubbed on it as he looked at Jackie's picture on the bullet-ridden wall. He noticed the bullet hole in the picture, straight through Jackie's right shoulder; much like the one that had killed him. He chided himself for not paying enough attention, for letting Jackie open the fucking front door. His walls came tumbling down, raw pain and devastation took over. He wept and wept…

_(100 words)_


	8. Tale: Sticks in the dark

_The drabbles in the previous chapter were heavy... Here's something a little light-hearted .. :-)_

* * *

**Sticks in the dark..**

Bobby woke up abruptly and found himself in a twisted position on the sofa. He looked around groggily; Jerry must've left and Jackie must be upstairs fast asleep. The clock on the wall read 12:35. _Fuck._ He was about to head upstairs to Ma's room when he heard the sounds coming from the kitchen area. He thought about running upstairs to get his gun but gave up on the idea. Instead, he grabbed the hockey stick he'd left leaning against the wall by the stairs earlier that day. He tiptoed towards the kitchen, stick in hand and ready to strike. There was nobody in the kitchen, but he still heard the groaning noises – a deep voice and a giggle intermingled. He pushed open the laundry room door and startled the two lovers.

"What in the … what the fuck Angel?!" he yelled, dropping the hockey stick as Angel scrambled to pull up his boxers. Sofi unwrapped the legs she had tangled around Angel's thrusting middle and crossed both arms over her bosom.

"What the hell are ya doing down here Bobby?" Angel retorted, struggling to catch his breath.

"Oh pardon me for giving a damn about our safety, jarhead! What the fuck are you two doing on the damn washing machine, Angel?"

"Well, what the heck does it look like? Come on, man!"

Sofi pulled on Angel's shirt and hopped off the vibrating machine. "Come on sweety ..let's go upstairs!" She pulled Angel by the hand and dragged him away from the kitchen, heading for the stairs.

Bobby shouted after them as they ran up the stairs, "Yeah, you two better keep the rutting upstairs where it belongs! Fuck! And you're responsible for laundry from now on, Angel, 'cause I ain't laying a finger on that damn washing machine ever again!"

"What's all the fuckin' racket?" Jack stood at the top of the stairs, scratching his matted hair, looking confused and sleepy.

"What can I say, sweetheart? Your big brother's taken to fucking Loca Ono on the washing machine these days! _Un-fuckin-believable_.." Bobby grumbled as he walked up the stairs.

_(350 words)_


	9. Tale: Daydreams

_Hello dear readers! Another little story .. This might seem "out there" but I felt like writing it anyway, ;-) All comments are welcome, of course!_

_Note: Contains coarse language._

* * *

**Daydreams**

Jack dropped his backpack on the floor by his bed and peeled off his clothes. He'd been playing basketball all afternoon and he was sweaty and spent. He wrapped a towel around his waist and walked into the bathroom.

"Jackie, supper in 30 minutes!" his Ma called from the kitchen.

"Be down in a bit, Ma!"

He pulled off the towel and stepped into the bath. He stood under the shower for a while, enjoying the feeling of the water running down his body. He closed his eyes and almost immediately, the object of his fantasies and wet dreams, Kimberly, appeared in his mind. She was wearing that low-cut purple blouse that drove him crazy whenever he saw her in it. Before he knew it, a soapy hand had drifted south and enveloped his now hard dick; sliding slowly up and down his entire length. He imagined her lips sucking him, taking him all in like she'd done a few weeks before. He was well down the road of sweet sensations and nearing orgasm when out of nowhere, Bobby appeared in the shower in front of him, butt naked and soaking wet, a strange look in his eyes.

Jack's eyes flew open suddenly and reality came flooding back. What the fuck was Bobby doing in his fantasy?? He shook his head vigorously, as if to remove the image that had brought his little daydream to a screeching halt. He didn't dare try to 'finish' after that; what if Bobby appeared in his head again? _Fuck!_ He washed up quickly and got out of the shower. He was still in a daze when he closed his bedroom door and threw some clothes on. What the heck was up with that? Damn! Maybe Bobby had been right all along; maybe he really was a little fairy. _Holy fuck!_

He ran down the stairs and followed the mouth-watering aromas into the kitchen. His Ma was setting the table. She smiled at his fresh, clean face, "Jackie, could you please go tell your brothers it's time for supper..."

He ran back up the stairs. Jerry and Angel were playing cards in Jerry's room. They abandoned the game when he told them Ma needed them downstairs. He stood outside Bobby's half-open bedroom door for a moment, wondering if the look on his face would completely give away his secret. Bobby always knew how to read people. _Fuck_. He stuck his head in a little; Bobby was lying on his bed, reading a comic book.

"Ma says supper is ready."

"Alright, I'm coming princess.." Bobby mumbled, eyes still fixed on his comic book.

Jack frowned and pushed the door open. "Will ya cut that out? I'm sick of all this _'fairy, princess, sweetheart'_ shit! I'm not a fuckin' fairy okay? So you can stop using those stupid names on me!"

Bobby placed his book down and looked at Jack, clearly taken aback by his little brother's outburst. "What the hell's got your panties in a bunch, Cracker Jack? What'd I say?" Jack kept his eyes on the floor, averting his brother's gaze, "Just don't call me those things again!"

Bobby got up from the bed and approached his brother, "Listen Jackie, you're my little brother and I love ya. Ya know that, right?" Jack nodded curtly.

"Good. Nobody's got the right to call you a fairy…except me. Got it?" He ruffled Jack's hair and left the room.

"_I love ya too,"_ Jack thought as he heard Bobby's heavy footsteps down the stairs. He stood in Bobby's room for a moment, anxiously biting on his fingernails. _Fuck_. This could get really weird really fast. He needed to get Kimberly to go steady with him pronto, yeah, that would do the trick.

His stomach rumbled hungrily and he turned around and ran down the stairs into the kitchen.

(635 words)


	10. Drabbles & Tale: GoodBye

_Greetings dear readers,  
I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who has read my little entries. Big thanks if you left me a comment.  
Two more drabbles ... Like LoveBuggy aptly described in a comment - "snapshots of life" ... :-) Cheers._

_Edit to add: Little Worries …_

* * *

**Quiet Communion**

Evelyn was determined to make this Christmas especially memorable. She got a fresh Christmas tree and decorated it from top to bottom until the pine branches were drooping with colorful lights and festive ornaments. These boys meant the world to her; they'd all come a long way together – as a family. Soon her Bobby would fly the coop and start a life on his own. How she'd miss him.

Before Christmas dinner, they held hands in quiet communion. _"No matter what happens, wherever you go, always remember that home is right here. I'm right here for all of you. Always."_

_(100 words)_

* * *

**Goodbye**

The tears that had pooled in his eyes now ran freely down his cheeks. _Fuck_. He hated goodbyes; he hated leaving Ma behind. Then there was Jerry, Angel and little Jackie – he would miss them something awful. He was leaving behind the only people he'd ever loved and who loved him. Bobby pulled over by the side of the road and dropped his head on the steering wheel. He cried. He scolded himself for weeping like a giant wimp, but he couldn't seem to stop the tears.

After a few quiet sobs, he dried his eyes and clung to the steering wheel, red eyes fixed blankly on the wintry street.

_(110 words)_

* * *

**Little worries **

Jack leaned heavily against the wooden headboard of his twin bed and strummed away idly at his guitar. He was in a bad mood and wanted to be left alone. He felt angry and sad and crappy; and whenever things got this heavy, his guitar was one friend he could rely on completely. Angel wandered in and sat down on the floor, elbows resting on his knees.

"He's not gone for good Jackie. He'll be back on holidays and every few months.."

"Thanks Angel, but I don't wanna talk about it right now," he answered quietly, never lifting his head up from his guitar.

Angel sighed deeply and looked at his little brother, "Ma misses him, I miss him, we all miss him, but we all gotta be there for each other now."

Jack shook his head quietly and finally stopped playing the guitar. "Angel, you don't understand. Bobby's left; soon it'll be Jerry, then you … then what?" He ran a nervous hand through his hair and swallowed hard. "This is the first real home any of us has ever had. I never dreamed that I could live like this when I was being shoved from one shitty ass foster home to the next. I guess when it happened and Ma made us a real family, I guess.. I guess I never wanted it to end...ever." He buried his face in his hand.

"Hey Jackie, don't cry. Come on.." Angel pleaded, patting him gently on the shoulder.

Jack managed a weak laugh, "I know … I'm acting like a freaking girl! I know.."

"Wanna come play some hockey with me and Jerry tonight? It'll cheer ya up! Come on! Put the guitar down and come with me!"

Jackie's face brightened a little when his brother dragged him off the bed and out the door.

_(305 words)_


	11. Tale: Behind the Mask

_Hello dear readers,  
I woke up thinking of Bobby this morning, hence this little tale. :-)_

* * *

**The Man behind the Mask**

Bobby sat alone on Ma's bed, lost in his thoughts. A steady stream of night light poured in from the white lace window curtains, setting the room aglow with soft bluish light. He looked around solemnly. In some ways he could still feel her presence all around him in the quiet room. He hadn't moved too many things around since he'd started sleeping here a few days ago. There were little bits of her everywhere, little reminders of her life – like the laundry basket he'd found sitting on her bed, or the rainbow scarf she'd began knitting that now lay unfinished on the chair beside the bed, or the fuzzy pink bedroom slippers by the door. Little things brought back memories of her and he longed to reach out and touch her, to catch a glimpse of her again.

A part of him had gone cold and numb when he'd seen the footage on that surveillance tape. The image played over and over in his head – the gun aimed at her, the slow steps she took backwards, and the final two shots that sent her crashing to the ground, never to rise again. He clenched his teeth and tried to stifle the tears. He didn't care that he was alone behind a closed door now; crying would dull the pain, plus it made him feel weak and pathetic. He needed to keep his wits sharp; he needed to feel the raw anguish and hot anger that flowed in his veins. He knew that he needed these emotions, even more than guns to fight the war he was about to unleash. There would be plenty of time to grieve after Ma's death was avenged. He'd felt nothing when he'd unloaded a bullet into that thug's chest. He was prepared to stop at nothing, he was ready to go to jail if necessary, because there was no way he was letting this go. He thought about what his Ma would say about all this. Maybe Jerry was right, maybe she would've been the first to forgive her killers. In fact he knew for sure that she had forgiven them but he'd never lived his life as a saint and he was not about to start now, even if he wanted to.

He heaved a shaky sigh and lay down on the bed. He grabbed her pillow and held it close. He found it hard to admit it to himself, but he was lonely. He never told anyone this, but oftentimes he would dream about getting married and having a few kids. He would do right by them - he wouldn't fail them like his parents had failed him, whoever they were. He would give them those things he'd prayed for everyday of his life before Ma came along: love, a proper childhood and a life. He thought about Jeremiah and his little girls; he wanted a life like that someday too. Angel had Sofi; and despite all the jokes he made about them, he knew that they'd loved each other for years. The truth was that he wanted someone to curl up with at night, someone to keep him grounded when he got too hot-headed, someone to simply love him. He'd hoped that one day Ma would hold his children in her arms, and love them as much as he knew she loved him. That would no longer be possible.

He rolled onto his side and held the pillow tightly against his chest. The alarm clock on the bedside table read 2.25am. He needed to get some sleep. He hoped to see her in a dream tonight, even for a fleeting moment, if only for a little reassurance that she was there and looking out for them. He mumbled a little prayer and fell into a restless slumber.

She watched him sleep, but she would not visit his dreams that night.

_(650 words)_


	12. Tale: Memoirs of Jack Mercer

_Hello dear readers,  
Little pieces from 'The Life of Jack' ... ;-)  
Note - Re: the dates - I used my imagination and worked with the fact that Jackie was 19/20-ish in 2004.  
More to come, I hope.  
_

_L._

* * *

**Memoirs of a Mercer**

_**Lansing, Michigan -1985**_

By age twenty, she'd already lost two children to the child welfare system. She'd been _'using'_ on and off during this pregnancy but by some miracle, he'd turned out perfect and cute as a button. This time she was going to clean up her act, for this baby's sake at least.

Six weeks after he was born, her landlord found her lying on the dirty linoleum in the kitchen; a rubber band clinging to her forearm. The apartment had been ransacked. Her crying baby wailed in his tiny crib, starving for food and attention.

Too late ... she was already gone.

* * *

_**Oakland, Michigan -1994**_

He was huddled behind the smelly red couch in a corner of the cold, damp room. It was completely dark except for a little light streaming in through the dirty basement window. He could hear the loud screams upstairs, coupled with the deafening noise of glass crashing against the walls. They were at it again, and when things got this bad, the best place to be was down here, out of sight and away from the ruckus. He pulled his little legs closer to his chest and held onto them tightly.

This month would be his sixth at the Peterson's; the longest damn six months of his entire existence. He had grown accustomed to the occasional slaps in the face and the verbal abuse but those were nothing compared to what Mrs. Peterson endured. Last week she'd been rushed to the hospital after tumbling down the stairs from a blow her husband landed on the back of her head. The week before that, he'd been forced to witness the old geezer violate his wife with a beer bottle right there on the kitchen table.

He thought of running away ... some good that would do. He'd run away from his first foster family, look where it'd gotten him – right back here in another shitty-ass foster home. He sat there busily contemplating his options or lack thereof, when he heard the gunshot upstairs. He buried his head between his knees and rocked back and forth as the sound left loud echoes in his head.

The last thing he remembered before he fainted was the sight of Mrs. Peterson standing by the kitchen table; the front of her nightgown covered in big red stains, shaking violently as she clutched the pistol she had used to drive a hole through her husband's skull.

* * *

_**Detroit, Michigan -1997**_

Evelyn folded the adoption documents neatly and placed them in the little chest she kept underneath her bed. He was a quiet, emotional, sensitive thing and she wanted so much to protect him, to alleviate some of the burdens that weighed down on those tiny shoulders. He'd had a very traumatic childhood, she'd read all the reports. She wasn't about to let him down or give up on him. She believed in these kids and what they could become.

She closed the chest and smiled to herself.

Her boy; he was her little boy now - her son.

* * *

_**Detroit, Michigan -2003**_

The drive to the airport was mostly quiet. All he was taking with him was one suitcase and his guitar. She found some reassurance in that - it wasn't like he would never come home again.

"Jackie, take care of yourself, ya hear? I know you're a big-shot rock star, but absolutely no drugs! Make sure you eat properly and stay safe. California's no picnic." Her pleading eyes held his.

"I know Ma. We live in Detroit… I can handle L.A.," he smiled and drew her close for one last hug. She sighed and clung to him, "I love ya. Call me when ya get there."

"I love ya, Ma.."

She sat there for a long while after he'd checked-in and disappeared down the long hallway that led to his airplane. "I'll miss you.." she whispered, as if to a ghost.

_(640 words) _


	13. Tale: A Grave Secret

_Hello dear readers,  
I went for a bit of slash in this little tale... ;-)  
I'll leave it at that. I appreciate your comments._

_Note: Contains coarse language, sexual content. _

* * *

_Prologue  
November 2004 _

Bobby pressed the phone against his chest and looked over at Angel, "Where the fuck is Jack? Jack! Phone!" he yelled. Jack clung to the towel draped around his waist and ran down the stairs. Bobby handed him the phone and sat back down on the couch.

"Hello?"

"_Jack, it's me,"_ came the familiar voice on the other end of the line.

"I know.." he walked into the kitchen and leaned against the counter; Bobby and Angel were no longer within earshot.

"So how's it going?" Jack asked, lowering his voice a notch.

"_I miss you. It sucks to sleep alone.. you know how I get.."_

Jack blushed. "I know."

"_How're ya holding up? You doin' okay?"_

"I'm okay, I guess. But it sucks, it really does. It's just so weird that …that she's not here, ya know?"

"_I know. Listen, I got one more gig and then I'll be off for a while. I can fly over there and keep ya company if you want.."_

"I'd like that, but not right now. We got some shit to take care of around here. So maybe around Christmas?"

"_Sure ... Did you tell them?"_

He peeked into the living room momentarily. Bobby was looking in his direction with a questioning look on his face.

"No, I can't. I mean, now's not the time.." A pregnant silence ensued for a brief moment. "I'll call ya later. I better go get dressed. Gotta leave the house in a bit."

"_Okay ... Love you ..."_

"Me too.."

He hung up the phone and was quietly heading for the stairs when Bobby stopped him. "Whoa there, princess! Who was you talking to on the phone?"

"No one." He mumbled, and dashed up the stairs to his room.

* * *

**A Grave Secret**

_Detroit, Summer 2002_

_Jack didn't think his brothers would understand if he told them what had happened. In fact, he didn't think he'd ever live it down if he did. If he ever thought that the "fairy" jokes and "cock" references were plentiful now, he'd have to be prepared to be buried under an avalanche of similar remarks if they ever found out …_

_----_

_He had begun hanging out with Theo, a high school senior who belonged to the same Music Club he attended from time to time. Theo was a long-haired, pot-smoking, live-and-let-live hippie wannabe. He was a smart kid but he wasn't studious. He was more interested in starting a punk rock band of his own, and playing bass drums and his acoustic guitars. They sometimes spent their lunch breaks together, as well as several after-school hours some days, talking music or discussing what they would do with all the money they'd earn as famous rock stars someday. They became fast friends._

One summer afternoon a few months after they'd met, Theo came over to the Mercer's to spend the afternoon with Jack. They binged on potato chips; emptied a few cans of soda; smoked a joint; wrote lyrics to a song they promised themselves they would release someday; played idle tunes on their guitars and finally fell asleep, draped carelessly on Jack's bed.

Jack was unsure about the length of time they'd been asleep but when he woke up, Theo was lying next to him, crammed in close. His first instinct was to leap out of bed and put some distance between them … but he didn't, he wasn't sure why; he later blamed it on his groggy state. Theo was wide awake and looking straight at him. Jack could feel his heart beat faster when he realized what Theo was doing … Theo's big green eyes were heavy with desire and the hand buried in his own shorts began to move faster and faster …  
Jack watched as Theo masturbated right there on the bed next to him, never taking his eyes off Jack's face. He was not sure why he just lay there and watched but one thing was for sure: he was getting so hard watching Theo's hand slide up and down in his shorts like that. Theo must've realized it too because he stopped stroking himself and sat up on the bed, eyeing the bulge in Jack's pants. Before Jack could think of escaping, Theo had straddled his hips and unzipped his fly. _Holy fuck!_

He would've gotten up and escaped and never looked back if he wasn't so fucking turned on; he would've screamed if he wasn't tongue-tied just now. Theo mumbled a _'Just relax, J..'_ and just when he thought his heart could not beat any faster, he felt a lick at the tip of his cock. He bit hard on his lip and squeezed out a strangled moan. He didn't dare look down at the head that began bobbing up and down below his waist. _Oh fuck!_ He grabbed handfuls of the bedclothes and squeezed his eyes shut. _Wait. Stop. What if someone walks in? What if Bobby walks in? What the fuck am I doing? Oh fuck this feels good._ The thoughts danced around in his head, but all the sucking noises that Theo was making were driving him crazy; there was no way he could last another minute with that eager tongue lapping away down there. One sharp intake of breath and before he knew it, he was unloading a mouthful of jizz into Theo's warm, wet orifice.

He was still slowly coming back to his senses when a knock came on the bedroom door a few short moments later. "Jackie, can I come in?" his Ma called on the other side of the door. _Shit!_

"Er, I'm coming, Ma!" He zipped up his pants hastily and scrambled to his feet. Theo lay back on the bed, hands underneath his head, a devilish grin on his face. He made no efforts to hide the erection that still bulged in the front of his shorts. _Fuck!_

Jack opened the door slightly and managed a little smile.

"You okay Jackie? You look a little flushed..." She took his chin in her hand and looked at him closely.

"I'm good Ma. What's up?" he breathed, trying his hardest to keep a straight look on his face.

"Oh … Kimberly called a few minutes ago. Something about you two going on a date tonight?"

He'd completely forgotten about that. _Shit!_

"Okay Ma, I'll call her back in a little while.." He looked over his shoulder anxiously; Theo was now sitting up on the bed. _Thank goodness._

"No need for that. She just arrived! She's downstairs now."

_Double shit!_

_----_

_He didn't completely understand it himself, how could he explain it to anyone else? He still fancied women; he still got hard when he flipped through Bobby's PlayBoy magazines or when he made out with Kimberly. But ... after that summer afternoon with Theo, something in him changed. He didn't know what exactly it was, or how to describe it, or how to fix it but he knew he wanted more, even though the thought alone scared him shitless. _

_After Theo moved to Los Angeles with his family that autumn, they'd kept in touch; they talked on the phone every so often and emailed each other. They discussed their futures, their music and even the possibility of starting that band they'd dreamed about all those months ago, if Jack ever decided to move to Los Angeles. They talked about a lot of things but they never really discussed what happened between them that summer._

_Jack decided there was no way he'd let anyone find out about this. No, this was one secret he'd have to take to the grave._

* * *

_December 2004_

It was a few days before Christmas. Angel and Sofi were out for the day; Daniela and Amelia were playing with their Uncle Bobby on the living room floor, while Jeremiah and Camille looked on in amusement. The doorbell rang. Every time Bobby heard that damned sound, he thought of Jackie. He walked over to the door and opened it. There was a young man standing there with bright green eyes, dark-blond dreadlocked hair, and a hesitant smile.

"Hi…Um, you must be J's big brother right?"

Bobby looked him up and down. "Yeah. Who the hell are you?"

"I'm Jack's …um, roommate from _Cali_, we –"

A look of recognition flashed in Bobby's eyes. "Oh, I remember you! You're that scrawny kid who used to play guitar with Jackie a few years ago, right?"

The young man nodded with a smile. "I just got into Detroit last night ... and I thought I'd surprise him… Is Jack home by any chance?" he asked expectantly.

Bobby lowered his head for a moment. "Better come in," he answered quietly.

_(1450 words)_


	14. Tale: A Grave Secret II

_Hello all,  
Concluding the little tale I started in the last chapter. ;-)  
I hope my next inspirations are, um, angst-free..  
Cheers! L._

* * *

**A Grave Secret, **_**Conclusion**_

Theo sat on the edge of the living room sofa, elbows resting heavily on his knees. He kept his head down, long thin dreadlocks tumbling over the sides of his face. He touched the silver ring he wore on his left thumb and moved it in circles around his finger. He sniffed as tears ran down his face. Bobby handed him a box of Kleenex and sat down. Camille took the girls upstairs to play, leaving Jeremiah, Bobby and Theo in the room

"So you two was close friends?" Jeremiah asked quietly, looking closely at the young man.

Theo lifted his head and stared at the wall that was still ridden with bullet holes from the gun fight a few weeks before. His eyes were fixed on one picture – a fresh-faced Jack looked back at him, his hair shaggy as always, his lips quirked in a little smile, a gaping hole through his right shoulder.

His lips trembled and he finally responded, "Yeah, we were close …" He swallowed with difficulty, "I just can't believe this ... We spoke on the phone not that long ago.. I mean, I had no idea shit like this was about to go down. He never said nothing about that … He just said that y'all needed to take care of some stuff, that's all! … I never guessed that... Oh fuck, J!" He buried his face in both hands and sobbed.

Bobby and Jeremiah looked at each other and then back at the young man who was falling apart on the sofa.

"Listen, the fuckin' bastards responsible for this … they paid for it ..." Bobby said grimly. "I'll probably blame myself for what happened to him my entire fuckin' life …I know that. But even that won't bring him back.." Bobby blinked back the tears that were starting to pool in his eyes.

They fell into an uneasy silence for a few moments. Theo wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and let out a shaky breath. "I'm sorry ... I'm just ... I'm just in shock, that's all.."

"Hey it's alright man." Bobby patted him lightly on the shoulder. The young man managed a weak smile.

"So you two was in the same band?" Jeremiah asked.

Theo nodded quietly and cleared his voice. "We'd only dreamed about it forever.." He laughed weakly. "Then when J moved to LA last year, we just fuckin' went for it. We kinda sucked at first .. but we really got our shit together after a while.." He lowered his head and fidgeted with the thumb ring… "..Where was he buried?"

"Holy Cross Cemetery ..." Jeremiah replied. "I'll take you there if you want.."

Theo nodded and stood up, "I'd really appreciate that.. Can you take me now?" Jeremiah rose from the sofa, "Sure.."

When they got to the door, Theo shook Bobby's hand, "I'm sorry 'bout your mom.. and Jack... I'll miss him a lot..we were best friends.." Tears filled up his red, puffy eyes.

"You take care.. If you're gonna be in town for a while, feel free to drop by again.." Bobby said, squeezing him reassuringly on the shoulder.

"Tell Camille I'll be back in a bit," Jeremiah closed the front door as he and Theo stepped out onto the snowy street.

Bobby returned to the living room and sat down slowly on the couch, his forehead furrowed in quiet reflection. He'd recognized that ring on the kid's finger. He shook his head and looked up at the picture on the wall, _'So you were a little fairy after all..'_ … He smiled even as a tear rolled down his cheek.

_(610 words)_


	15. Tale: Memoirs of Jerry Mercer

_Hello dear readers,  
Now for bits and pieces from the life of another Mercer .. ;-)_  
_I hope you like. L._

* * *

**Memoirs of a Mercer: Jeremiah**

**Detroit, Michigan –1974**

Candice never dreamed she would be a grandmother at 39 but as she sat by her daughter, Samantha's hospital bed and held her one week old grandson in her arms, she felt a lump in her throat. He was a tiny, little thing; Samantha had named him Jeremiah after her late father.

The last couple of months had been rough for them. Life as a widow was hard enough, but throw in a pregnant, boy-crazy, party-going sixteen year old and things really started going decidedly pear-shaped. Samantha had seemingly gone off the deep end after her father had been killed in a car accident a year and a half before– she regularly missed school and started hanging around the neighborhood with men twice her age. It wasn't long before she'd gotten pregnant; she had no idea who the father was.

It'd been rough, but they'd worked out all the details - after the baby was born, Sam would go back to high school and get her diploma. Candice secretly hoped that this baby would straighten her daughter out, teach her to be a bit more responsible. She would gladly look after her grandson; she would do anything to give her Sam a chance to get her life back on track. What she hadn't told her daughter was that she'd been diagnosed with cervical cancer half a year ago. She knew exactly how her daughter would take the news, seeing as all they had was each other … No, there was no need to let her know just yet. Besides, the doctors had said they'd caught the cancer in its fairly early stages.

In September, Samantha went back to high school; Candice stayed home most days with her grandson. She neglected to mention that her bleeding and abdominal pains had gotten more excruciating and frequent. One short month later, Samantha stood by her mother's hospital bed and cried on the cold, clammy hand in hers. The doctor said something about complications resulting from a ruptured mass in her left ovary. She was not yet forty.

On a cold Thursday morning four weeks later, Samantha walked out of the social services agency clutching the signed documents. She was half numb from the cold when she finally got home after the long walk. She retrieved the baby blanket from the empty crib and curled up on the old carpet. Her mother had knitted that blanket when she'd been in her seventh month of pregnancy. She wrapped it around herself and wept.

* * *

**Detroit, Michigan –1984**

"Jeremiah, look at me when I'm talking to you!" Gladys grabbed his chin and turned his head roughly towards her. "I just got another call from Mr. Perez for the third time this week! How many times do I have to tell you not to shoplift? Huh?" She pulled him over to the sofa, "Get over here you little dumb idiot! You know what to do! Go on!" she yelled at him, the veins in her thick neck stood out like blue spaghetti.

Jeremiah's lips trembled as he suppressed a cry. He pulled down his shorts and held tightly onto the arm of the sofa. She whacked him hard and loud on his bare bottom; her long, bright-red fingernails leaving scratches on the tender flesh. After the spanking session was over, she sent him down to the basement for the rest of his punishment - another night without supper.

He prayed to God every night that she would die so that his real parents would come get him. Surely they loved him; surely they'd just misplaced him for a while and were going to return for him; surely they knew that he needed them. They never came.

* * *

**Detroit, Michigan –1990**

He looked pretty harmless and quiet but Evelyn knew he had a record – shoplifting, car theft, some drug use and a battery charge for assaulting a prior foster parent who had taken to 'disciplining' him with the business end of a power cord. He was only sixteen.

She didn't need to be told that she had her hands full with this one. To say that it was going to be challenge would be the understatement of the decade. His past was marked with physical abuse; and every time he'd been beaten up for stealing or some other vice, his behavior had gotten progressively worse and defensive.

"Jeremiah, listen carefully.." Evelyn addressed him on the first day she'd brought him home. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his faded jeans and rolled his eyes.

"I won't tolerate rudeness and any form of obnoxious behavior from you, do you hear me?" Evelyn kept her voice steady and calm.

He shook his head and sneered, "Yeah, whatever. Another fuckin' preacher's wife! You're gonna whoop me too? 'Coz I ain't afraid of you, I ain't scared of nobody!"

"I'm not going to lay a finger on you. I don't believe in beating children … and that's what you are, a child struggling so hard to be a tough man. You are a child.." He shook his head and rolled his eyes again..

"I will try to provide for you the best I can, and if you need something …ask me. There's no need to steal anything, not now, not ever again. I need you to understand that I am not here to torture you or make your life any worse than it's already been.."

"Uh huh, whatever. They all say that in the beginning …right before they start getting cheques every month," he mumbled as if to himself.

She pursed her lips and looked into his eyes solemnly, "This here's your room, sit here if you like. When you are ready to listen to what I have to say, I'll be downstairs." She got up from the bed and walked out of the room quietly. Jeremiah sat on the bed and looked around the tidy room in amazement; he'd certainly never had a bedroom like this before. It scared him to hope, but maybe things would look up from now on. He brushed the thought out of his mind before it got too comfortable … _No use dreaming if it's gonna be a nightmare_, he thought.

* * *

**Detroit, Michigan –2000**

Evelyn kissed her son proudly on the cheek and straightened his tux.

A few _'oohs'_ and _'aahs'_ could be heard in the little church audience when Camille was walked down the flower-strewn isle in a simple, yet beautiful cream-colored wedding dress. Jeremiah stood at the altar with Bobby by his side. Bobby elbowed his brother slightly and whispered, "That's your bride, man! Show some of them big-ass teeth you hiding under there!" Jeremiah smiled and elbowed him back.

As they read their vows, Evelyn pulled out a handkerchief from her purse and dabbed at her tears. She wasn't big on crying at festive occasions but today was an exception. One of her boys was getting wed and she was sitting right here, witnessing it. After all the tough times, after all the comments that she was crazy to adopt 'those delinquents', after all the trying years, after all that – here stood her son Jeremiah, a _'lost cause_' embracing the woman he loves, right before some of the eyes that had doubted him.

"You okay Ma?" Jack asked from her left, patting her hand gently. She nodded and smiled as she managed to dab the tears before her mascara ran completely.

She cheered Jeremiah on as he kissed his bride … Nothing felt sweeter at that moment, than a mother's pride.

(1250 words)


	16. Tale: Little Messenger

_Hello dear readers,  
I hope this little tale makes you smile. :-)  
L. _

* * *

**Little Messenger**

Daniela comes wandering down the stairs and finds her Uncle Bobby watching television in the living room. She smiles a little and walks towards him, sitting herself clumsily beside him on the sofa. He smiles and lifts her up on his knee.

"I thought you were taking a nap with Amelia," he pinches her nose and looks into her eyes.

"I woke up," she answers quietly. "Grandma Evie's not coming back is she?" the little girl asks out of the blue.

He shakes his head slowly and draws her closer to himself.

"So she won't come back ever? Not even on Christmas day?" Her little brown eyes grow shiny with tears.

"She'll be here on Christmas day. Even though we won't see her, she'll be here..." he rubs her little back soothingly.

"You think she's in heaven now?"

"Yes, darling ... I think she's in heaven," he whispers in her ear.

A little smile appears on the child's face. "Really? So she's seen God? And Santa too?" her soft voice eager and laced with excitement.

"Santa's in the North Pole, remember?" He can't help but smile at the direction the conversation is heading.

"Yes, but Santa must know God because he gets all the toys from heaven, right?" She pauses and searches his eyes for an answer and then continues, "Grandma Evie knows that I want a pony, so if she is in heaven, she can ask God for me…and then God will tell Santa," she announces triumphantly.

He laughs out loud and pinches her little nose again. She jumps off his lap, feeling elated at the conclusion she has arrived at. She starts walking towards the stairs when she turns around and runs back to him.

"Uncle Bobby?"

"Hmm?" he answers, leaning back on the sofa cushions.

"You want anything from God? I can ask Grandma Evie for you..."

He sits up and looks at her closely, a smile lingering on his lips. "How will you ask her?"

"She plays with me every night when I'm asleep…She doesn't play with you too?"

He furrows his brows for a moment, then smiles, "Okay … when you see her again, tell her to come visit me too... You can do that?"

Daniela nods and flashes a bright smile. She turns around and scurries off towards the stairs; his smiling eyes follow her little feet as they occasionally stumble on their climb up the stairs.

_(400 words)_


	17. Tale: Midnight Shadow

_Hello dear readers,  
Here is another 'Jackie' tale.  
It is angsty, I'm afraid.  
L._

* * *

**The Midnight Shadow**

Amy made up the twin bed in the attic with fresh sheets and an old quilt from the linen closet. She dusted the little table by the window and swept the hardwood floor clean. Just a day ago, they'd received a call from the social worker, telling them that there was a child needing placement in a good home. The details about his past were sketchy but she was told that he was currently in a group home. He was about eleven and had been through a few foster homes already. She wondered about him … maybe some day if they all got along as a family, she and Henry could discuss the prospect of making the arrangement permanent by adopting him. Their last foster child, Mariah had been adopted by some couple in New York less than a year ago. It'd been hard to say goodbye. Maybe this time around, if things worked out with this little boy, she wouldn't have to part with him. Amy straightened the bedclothes one last time and looked around the little room with satisfaction.

Jack sat uncomfortably at the edge of the sofa, fidgeting with his fingernails; his eyes firmly planted on the old pair of boots he was wearing. Amy reached over to hold his hand and he flinched as if her touch were a bolt of electricity. She withdrew quietly and looked over at Henry who was seated next to her; his leathery face was furrowed with concern.

"I'll show you to your room," Amy started softly. She got up from the sofa, grabbed his modest suitcase and headed up the stairs. He got to his feet reluctantly and followed her. A pair of predatory eyes lingered on the boy's lanky form – from the dark-blond mop on his head to the uncertain movements of his long, thin legs as he made his way up the stairs. Henry watched him until the heel of Jack's boot disappeared up the wooden stairs.

Three whole days had passed and the boy still hadn't said much. He wasn't violent as Amy had feared he'd be, but he was extremely anxious and withdrawn, keeping to himself in the attic and sometimes refusing to eat. This particular evening, he had come downstairs for supper, much to Amy's delight. He must've been famished because he polished off all the chicken pot pie and boiled vegetables she'd heaped on his plate.

"Cookies 'n cream ice cream for dessert," she announced, looking at him closely. "You like ice cream, Jack?" He finally looked up at her and nodded, looking a tiny bit more relaxed. She smiled, "Silly question, really. Of course you like ice cream." She rose, picked up their empty plates and took them to the kitchen.

He could feel Henry's gaze settle in his direction as they sat alone at the table.

"So you like to play sports, kid? Baseball, hockey…?" Henry asked, taking a sip of his whiskey.

Jack looked at him hesitantly and nodded. "Used to play some hockey with some of the kids in the home," he answered quietly.

"Ever played baseball?"

When Jack shook his head, Henry smiled crookedly like he always did, "Don't worry, I'll teach you how." He took another swig of his whiskey, never taking his eyes off the boy. "Got any hobbies?" Henry pried further.

Jack looked out the window at the bright summer day outside; a strange fire burned in his blue eyes, "Someday …I'm gonna play guitar like Jimi Hendrix..." He was starting to drown in his faraway dreams when Amy returned with three bowls of ice cream on a tray. For the first time in days, Jack smiled as he eyed the large chunks of chocolate chip cookies half-buried in the already-melting scoops. For a tiny fraction of a second, hope flickered. He dug into his ice cream.

Another week went by and he slowly adapted to the flow of things in the Dillon household. He still kept to himself a lot and rarely spoke. It was best to keep things that way. He'd learned that there was no one he could trust or rely on, no matter what they said or promised. His own parents obviously didn't give a shit; otherwise he wouldn't be here, sleeping in the attic of some strange house with two people who were supposedly his 'new parents'. Jack curled up on the bed and stared out the window at the trees swaying in the summer breeze. It was a warm Sunday night; soft rays of grayish blue light poured in through the only glass window in the darkening attic room. Before he knew it, he drifted off to sleep…

He awoke again a few hours later; he wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep or what had woken him up but the room was darker now and he felt a draught on his bare thighs. He rubbed his eyes sleepily and got up to close the window. That was when he saw it - the shadow. It startled him and he fell back onto the bed.

"It's alright, kid. It's only me," came Henry's voice from the chair in a dark corner by the door.

Jack's heart was pounding in his chest. "Mr. Dillon?" Jack asked, sitting up suddenly. How long had he been sitting there watching him?

Henry got up from the chair and walked over with a slight stagger. He sat down heavily at the foot of the bed, his gaze drifting from the boy's shorts to his long, trembling limbs.

"I got you something. That's why I came up here …but you were sleeping … so peacefully," he inched a little closer to the frightened boy. "Take a look at what's leaning against the table there," he said, pointing in the direction of the oak table. Jack's heart was still hammering in his chest when his eyes followed Henry's finger. Leaning against the leg of the table was a shiny, new guitar. Jack looked from the instrument to Henry's face; a puzzled, terrified look in his eyes.

"I got it for you, kid. It's all yours …" he inched even closer to Jack, who looked from the dazzling new guitar to the man with the whiskey breath sitting at the foot of his bed.

"All I need is for you to do some little favors for me," he said, his breathing labored.

His left hand reached for the big silver buckle that held the belt around his thick waist. He must've known the boy was going to try to bolt because he held him down forcibly with his right hand and lowered himself until their faces where only a few inches apart.

"Listen, kid… I'm not gonna hurt you. You might even enjoy it…" he breathed, heaving ragged breaths that reeked of alcohol.

Jack froze when he saw the glazed look in Henry's dark eyes. His heart thumped heavily as his entire body trembled. Streams of tears leaked helplessly from the corners of his eyes. Henry's thick, calloused fingers were pressed against his lips. He let out a muffled cry when his shorts were yanked down to his knees. The man's stubble scrapped against his quivering belly as he felt the wet trails of the tongue that assaulted him. For a moment, all Jack could feel was the pool of hot tears in his ear… all he could see was blackness… all he could hear was the deafening sound of his own pulse.

The boy lay in a quaking heap on the bed when Henry ruffled his messy hair and ran a lazy finger down his wet face. "There's a good boy. Remember what I said about keeping this our little secret," he smiled and zipped up his jeans. "Get some sleep. Me and you …we're gonna play some baseball tomorrow." He got up and walked out the door, closing it quietly behind himself. His wife was fast asleep when Henry made it to his bedroom. He stripped off his clothes quietly and got into bed. He threw a lazy arm around her and was soon fast asleep.

Jack was still crying when he crawled out of bed half-naked and sat on the floor. His bed stank of sweat, whiskey and …Henry. He picked up the guitar leaning by the table and placed it on his lap; his tears falling onto the shiny strings and the polished wood. He moved it onto the hardwood floor and lay down beside it. He thought of going downstairs and bashing the instrument on the man's sleeping head. The thoughts danced around in his hazy mind but his body felt heavy and crippled. He rolled himself into a tight fist and hugged his thin shoulders. He sobbed miserably into the cold floor, his young soul limp as a withering bloom coming apart, one petal at a time.


	18. Tale: Boy Talk

_Hello dear readers,  
I love a bit of banter between the Mercer boys ! Hope you do too.  
And if I may ask, please do read and review. I love to hear what you think about the chapters. ;-)  
Cheers to everyone who has taken the time to drop me a line thus far!  
L.  
Note: Contain coarse language._

* * *

**Boy Talk **

Jack stuffed his hands in his front pockets and wandered into Angel's room. He had one or two things on his mind and he needed to talk to someone. Bobby and Angel were sitting at the study desk against the wall; their quivering, bulging arms were locked in an arm-wrestle . Jack sat on the bed and watched them in quiet amusement. He smiled and shook his head at the sight – Bobby's face was a peculiar shade of crimson and Angel was grunting and groaning like a farm animal. The veins on Bobby's neck were swelling to bursting point when he slowly brought Angel's hand down to the wooden surface.

"Yeah!" he exclaimed. "Guess the army ain't toughened you up as much as it should, little brother!" Bobby patted his muscular bicep and gloated, "Ya can't beat this!"

"Uh huh, whatever man! I just let ya win this time! I'll kick your ass next time around!" Angel flashed a bright smile and leaned back in his chair.

Bobby looked in Jack's direction, "Sorry, there ain't no girls you can arm-wrestle with here Jackie," he said mischievously.

"You just can't let up, can ya?" Jack rolled his eyes.

"Just letting ya know the score, sweetheart," Bobby said, stretching out and lifting his legs onto the table.

"Yeah, whatever. I didn't come here to wrestle... I just wanna talk about something, if y'all got a minute…" Jack looked from Angel's face to Bobby's.

"Go on then. Spill it!" Angel cocked his head to one side and looked at Jack.

"Oh shit! This is when you come out and tell us, isn't it?" Bobby asked, his eyes wide.

"Tell you what?"

"That you're a fairy for real and you finally got a boyfriend!" Bobby's mouth hung open in mock surprise.

"Fuck you," Jack grumbled and got up to leave the room.

"Whoa there, princess! Where d'you think you're going? Sit down.."

"Yeah, ignore Bobby, Crackerjack. Come back and sit down.."

Jack stood at the door, pouting. He lingered for a moment, carefully considering their offer.

"Fine, but could you just leave the fairy thing aside for one fuckin' minute?" He sat back down on the bed and shot a sinister look at Bobby.

"Why d'you let it bother you…You gotta toughen up, sweetheart! You know I call you names only because I love you!"

"Yeah right! Then how come you don't call Angel and Jerry names?"

"They're too old for pet names! You're my baby sister, Jackie! Besides, I know you secretly love it when I call you _sweetheart_. Come on, admit it!" Bobby grinned and winked at Jack, who just shook his head and smiled tightly.

"So what's on your mind, Jackie?"

Jack was grateful when Angel asked the question. "Okay, the thing is…You know me and Kimberly been kinda dating lately and…Well, the thing is that we haven't..." he made a back and forth gesture with his hands, expecting them to understand what he was attempting to say. They both stared at him blankly. "Well, we haven't –"

"You haven't screwed yet," Angel jumped in, "and you wanna know how you can get in her pants. Is that it?"

Jack furrowed his brows and shook his head in certain disagreement. "No, it's the opposite! I don't want to. I don't think I'm ready for all that. I mean, she's really into it, she wants us to do it but-"

Bobby looked at him in confusion. "Wait wait, let me understand this perfectly. You're saying you're with this girl who wants to get laid real bad and you haven't done it because you're not ready?"

Jack nodded.

"For fuck's sake, you're nearly seventeen, Jackie! What, you need a lesson and a diagram to show you what to do?" Bobby scratched his forehead and folded his arms, unable to see Jack's dilemma.

"I'm just scared, that's all. I mean, what if we do it and she gets pregnant?! Then what?"

Bobby and Angel looked at each other. "Duh! You gotta use a condom, princess!"

"I know that! Shit, I'm not stupid! But condoms are not a hundred percent safe. What if we get clumsy and it breaks or something? You've both had plenty of girlfriends, I'm sure…How do you deal with that?"

Bobby shrugged. "That's never troubled me!"

"Listen kiddo. I was your about age when me and Sofi first got together. She really worked some kinda magic on me, man. I mean, I'm talking permanent erection all day long-"

"Whoa, whoa there Angel!" Bobby interrupted him. "Spare us the fuckin' details, will ya? Sheesh!"

"My point is that I didn't have to wait for long. We got it on like a week later. Sofi was into it, just as much as I was. So we got a pack of rubbers and went for it. If this Kimberly chick wants it and you don't, well, you're the one with the dick - don't do it! Important thing is – when you do, you gotta make sure you're protected, that's very important.."

Jack nodded quietly, but his eyes still showed a hint of worry. Bobby looked at him closely. "I remember being sixteen. Man! I could've had sex on a bed of thorns if I had to, I was so damn horny!" They laughed. "What's really troubling you Jackie?"

Jack leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. He wrung his hands anxiously. "The thing is that …I worry about gettin' some girl pregnant. I mean, I'm not ready to be no father. Not now, not for a long time, I'm sure.. You both know what life was like for us before Ma came along. Don't you ever wonder about your birth parents sometimes? For all I know, my mother was sixteen years old when some bastard knocked her up! All of a sudden she's trapped and forced to have some baby she doesn't want ... and then where does that leave me? We all know the answer to that." Jack lowered his eyes and swallowed hard.

Bobby moved over to the bed and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Take a deep breath, Jackie. Look, I understand… we've all been through that life. If you don't wanna be with this girl, then don't force it if you don't feel like it.."

Evelyn knocked on the door and peeked in. "You boys plan on staying up here all evening?"

"We're heading down now, Ma," Angel replied.

"Good, 'cause Jerry, Camille and the baby are coming over in a couple of minutes." She pushed the door open and stepped into the room. "Let me talk to your little brother for a moment..." she nodded quietly at Bobby and Angel.

Bobby patted Jack's knee as he and Angel rose to their feet and headed for the door. Evelyn sat beside Jack on the bed, her hands folded on her lap. She knew that even though she hardly ever discussed it with the boys, the question of their birth parents would always remain in their hearts and minds like a faraway echo.

"Jackie, I didn't mean to eavesdrop but I heard what you said…the bit about your mother-"

"Ma, I just.." he started.

"I wish I could give you the answers you want, but I can't because I know next to nothing about ..your parents," she spoke quietly.

He stopped her. "Ma, I don't wanna know about them. Sometimes I wonder, sure. But that's a place I don't wanna visit too often," he smiled and took her hand. "We were just talking... boy talk, that's all."

She patted the hand that held hers, "Okay then, your brother will be here any minute now. I got to go finish supper." She pinched his chin and left him sitting on the bed.

Jack heaved a heavy sigh and straightened the black _Korn _tee-shirt he was wearing. He wasn't sure he could really articulate the true reason behind his fear of sexual intimacy; he could barely express it to himself. The truth was that it was real and ever-present, slowly nagging and eating away at him even as his hormones raged. He needed to think of a good reason to give Kimberly while he figured this thing out. He couldn't just say, _"Baby, I know you wanna have sex real bad right now, but I'm just not ready, I need more time...As a matter of fact, I'm gonna save myself for marriage.. Can you wait ten more years?"_ For sure, she would think he was gay or something. That would certainly equip her and her gossipy gang of friends with enough to talk about till he graduated from high school! _ Fuck_. He heaved another heavy sigh, dragged himself off Angel's bed and wandered listlessly out the door .

He was awakened from his brooding state when he heard Jerry's laughter and a baby's soft cry floating in the air. There was a little spring in his step and a smile on his face when he turned around and headed down the stairs.

_(1500 words) _


	19. Tale: Guess Who's Coming

_Hello dear readers,  
Presenting another day in the Mercer household..  
It started out as a drabble. I have no idea how it got so long. ;-)  
As always, would love to hear from you!  
_

**_ A Very Delightful Mother's Day to all the Mothers out there. :)_**

_ Cheers,  
Lucise_**_  
_**

* * *

**Guess Who's Coming After Dinner **

The doorbell rang just as they were polishing off yesterday's leftover apple crumble for dessert. Evelyn dabbed at her lips with a napkin and stood up. "Boys, there's someone I would like you to meet. That's him at the door now. Remember your manners." She smiled and rushed to open door, straightening her dress and fixing her hair along the way. Bobby looked at his brothers questioningly and shrugged at the equally puzzled looks on their faces.

She returned moments later. A tall man with salt-and-pepper hair and a broad smile followed behind her cautiously.

"Boys, I would like you to meet Mr. Campini. He works over at the Public Library. That's how we met actually …" The boys looked at each other curiously. Evelyn turned to him, "Roger, these are my sons: Bobby, Angel, Jeremiah and Jack.."

He nodded at each of them, "Very pleased to meet you all. Your mother talks about you all the time.."

"Well," Evelyn jumped in nervously, "I wanted you boys to meet Roger because, well, we've been seeing each other for almost three months now and I thought it was time you all got acquainted." The boys nodded their _'pleased-to-meet-you's' _and carried their empty plates to the kitchen; everyone except Bobby. He looked the strange man up and down and left the room without saying a word. Evelyn cleared her throat and took Roger's arm. She led him quietly to the living room; she would have a talk with the boys later.

"Maybe it was too soon to introduce me to them," Roger said as he sat down on the sofa, still holding onto Evelyn's hand. She sat beside him.

"Nonsense, it'll be okay. They're going to need time to adjust to the idea of their Ma dating, that's all. I'll have a talk with them later. Don't worry honey, it'll be alright." He nodded and placed a soft kiss beside her lips, drawing her close.

"We're still on for tomorrow night then?" he asked quietly.

"Of course! It's not everyday I get invited to Detroit's Opera House.. I wouldn't miss it for the world!"

"Excellent. So I'll pick you up around seven?"

"Sounds great," she smiled happily.

"Okay then, I better leave you to it.." They stood up and Evelyn walked him to the front door. Bobby watched them silently from the kitchen. Roger said goodnight and kissed Evelyn lightly on the lips. Bobby was not certain of it, but he could've sworn he heard _Mr. Campolo or whatever-the-fuck-his-name-was_ whisper a _'Love you'_ to his Ma. He sat at the table wondering why that pissed him off so much when Jerry made his way into the kitchen.

"What's eating you?" he asked, noting Bobby's sour expression.

"I don't like that man," Bobby said simply, throwing another glance at the front door.

"Who? Ma's boyfriend?"

"Don't call him that!"

Jerry looked at him, clearly taken aback. "What the fuck is the matter with you? Weren't you here when Ma said that they'd been seeing each other for months?"

Bobby got up suddenly and headed for the stairs. He was halfway up when Evelyn called him back, "Bobby could you tell Angel and Jack to come down to the living room for a moment? I would like us to have a little chat." He nodded curtly and resumed his climb up the stairs.

A few minutes later, they were all seated in the living room. Evelyn cleared her throat, "I want us to have a talk about … me and Roger, Mr. Campini. I asked him to come round tonight because I wanted you all to meet him. I care about him a great deal and I suspect we'll be seeing more of each other as time goes by. That's why I thought it'd be a good idea for you all to meet and maybe get to know each other." She paused and looked at their faces.

"He looks decent enough. Is he good to you, Ma?" Angel asked abruptly.

"Yes, he is, very much so.." she began.

"Good 'coz if he hurts you even a little bit, I'm gonna fuckin' kill 'em," Bobby mumbled under his breath.

"Watch your language, Bobby… and no, he's not going to hurt me." A moment's silence.. "Are you boys okay with this? With me seeing him?"

"He's not gonna move in here, is he, Ma?" Jack asked, in between gulps of his soda.

She smiled softly, "No. That's not the plan.."

Jeremiah shrugged, "Well, Ma, if he makes you happy and he doesn't hang around here always or take up all your time, then I guess I'm cool with it.. Does he have any kids?"

"Yes, two daughters from his first marriage. He's divorced now.." she answered quietly. She looked over at Bobby. He looked disgruntled; his arms crossed defensively over his chest . "Bobby, do you have anything to say about this?" she asked.

He shrugged and shook his head without saying a word. She pursed her lips and then continued, "Tomorrow night, your Ma's been invited to a show at the Opera House. I'll leave you in charge, Bobby." He sulked and remained silent, his eyes fixed on the floor.

-------------

Evelyn was cleaning up the kitchen for the night when Bobby wandered in and sat down quietly at the table. She smiled at him and went back to scrubbing the sink. She knew her son, he had something on his mind. Pressuring him would certainly prove to be pointless; he would open up to her in his own time.

"Ma.. You have a minute?" he finally asked, after watching her scrub all possible surfaces she could get her hands on.

"Of course, I always have a minute," she removed the yellow rubber gloves clinging to her hands and abandoned them by the sink. She pulled up a chair and sat down.

He began quietly, "I'm sorry I acted like a prick earlier.."

"Language, Bobby," she cautioned. "And it's alright.."

"No it's not. I mean, you're entitled to your own life. It's just really weird to think of my mother having a … boyfriend, that's all." She watched him intently, saying nothing. "I did mean it when I said I'd finish 'em if he ever hurt you. I meant that part for sure. But, I'm sorry if I was rude.." He lowered his head and fell silent.

She took his hand, "Bobby…Nothing will change. I'm still here, still your mother, whether Roger is here or not. Nothing can change that. I don't want any of you to feel threatened or worried because I can take care of myself. And you are right - I am entitled to a life.." She could sense some of the tension leaving him. "You boys come first. Roger knows that. I know that."

He swallowed hard, "Ma, there are things that happened in my past that always put me on guard. I don't wanna go into any of that now, but… I jumped to many conclusions when he showed up here tonight. I know you can take care of yourself, Ma, but I just wanna look after you."

She placed a kiss on his forehead. "I know, son. Only, no more threats to "finish" anyone, is that clear?"

He managed a weak laugh. "I can't promise that, but I got it."

"That's my boy." She rubbed his hands gently and stood up. She slipped on her rubber gloves and resumed her scrubbing when he stopped at the door on his way upstairs. "Ma, you mentioned that this Roger fellow has two daughters. You wouldn't happen to know how old they are, would you?" he smiled, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

She shook her head and laughed. "Goodnight Bobby!" she said, sprinkling drops of cold water on his face as she shooed him upstairs.

_(1305 words) _


	20. Tale: He is but a boy

_Hello dear readers,  
This may be amongst the last FB tales I write, who knows…  
It all depends on the amount of time I have these days and more importantly, if the muses do continue to inspire…  
I certainly do hope there will be more. :-)_

_As always, I appreciate your feedback.  
Cheers,  
Lucise_

* * *

**He Is But A Boy.. **

He is but a boy…  
Gentle of spirit  
Sensitive of heart;  
A tortured soul  
Warped by pain  
Laden with grief  
From yesteryears.  
He became her son  
Her youngest,  
Her little one  
Embraced to her bosom  
Forever in her heart..  
She became his mother  
His first true hope  
His first love;  
A glorious twist of fate  
In his dark, sombre life;  
Guided by her radiance  
Drawn to her warmth  
Like a moth to a flame;  
His guardian angel..

He is but a boy…  
The secrets of his heart,  
Music from his soul  
He strums away  
On taut, shiny strings…  
Now his tunes are mellow  
Sad, soft melodies  
Ode to the departed angel  
Who rests quietly  
On a cloudy pedestal,  
Her soft wings folded.

He is but a boy…  
Craving manhood  
Desiring the will to fight,  
To become a warrior  
A worthy avenger  
Undaunted by fear;  
A valiant soldier  
Courageous in war.  
For her -  
Nothing is too good  
No price is too high,  
No life too precious  
Not even his…

He was but a boy…  
Gentle of spirit  
Sensitive of heart;  
Here he lies,  
Unmoving like a statue.  
Tears from their eyes  
Fall on his cold face;  
Red streams flowing  
Melting, tainting  
The snowy white bed.  
He is deaf to their cries  
Impervious to their pleas..

He was but a boy…  
Driven to battle,  
A fight to the last  
For a departed angel.  
He was but nineteen,  
Full of newfound dreams  
Full of life, hope;  
Too young to die…  
A weeping angel  
Hunkers down  
On her cloudy pedestal,  
Head bowed  
A prayer on her lips.  
She longs to raise him  
Draw him into her wings  
Into her light, her warmth;  
To take him home  
For good this time…  
He was her youngest,  
Her little one  
Embraced to her bosom  
Forever in her heart..

_(300 words)_


End file.
